this post was submitted on 01 Sep 2024
68 points (91.5% liked)

Asklemmy

43802 readers
1122 users here now

A loosely moderated place to ask open-ended questions

Search asklemmy ๐Ÿ”

If your post meets the following criteria, it's welcome here!

  1. Open-ended question
  2. Not offensive: at this point, we do not have the bandwidth to moderate overtly political discussions. Assume best intent and be excellent to each other.
  3. Not regarding using or support for Lemmy: context, see the list of support communities and tools for finding communities below
  4. Not ad nauseam inducing: please make sure it is a question that would be new to most members
  5. An actual topic of discussion

Looking for support?

Looking for a community?

~Icon~ ~by~ ~@Double_A@discuss.tchncs.de~

founded 5 years ago
MODERATORS
 

Everytime when I visiti parents home it seems that don't care I'm even there. They have their "sports routines", which cannot be stopped. It happens to others too. Most topics revolt around what matches they had, with whom and watch matches in TV. Whenever they go to some holidays they look for sports hall for playing. They take part in exercises with coach, they play occasional games with 20+ friends.

The last time I had some talk, was that one time couple months ago when I brought the board game to improve our family integrity and communication skills, to get to know each other better, but that was once.

I feel that I I know them mostly on the surface level currently.

you are viewing a single comment's thread
view the rest of the comments
[โ€“] Hundun@beehaw.org 6 points 2 months ago* (last edited 2 months ago) (3 children)

I grew up in a family of medical doctors, it came with its own set of similar challenges. Every problem discussion always revolved exclusively around solutions or practical harm reduction. I suspect God forbade the doctors from talking just for emotional support.

Every problem I ever had (completely normal ones included) was medicalized and pathologized, neatly classified and wrapped in a set of actionable instructions: "this is how you get better, this is how you allow it to get worse".

I still remember coming home from school and sitting down at the dining table, eating my sausages with buckweed, while my dad, mom and older sister discuss methods and techniques to install a urethral catheter in a person with a broken phallus.

It wasn't good or bad, it was just weird I guess. Hey, at least I am not scared of blood/trauma/desease, and in a some cases I believe it allowed me to stomach helping people in need, when other people would turn away out of disgust or disturbance.

[โ€“] reagansrottencorpse@lemmy.ml 1 points 2 months ago (1 children)

For what it's worth, I'm sorry you had to grow up eating dinner while hearing about broken dicks.

[โ€“] Hundun@beehaw.org 1 points 2 months ago

Thanks, but it wasn't so bad. I have learned exactly two things from that conversation: 1 - one can brake a dick 2 - some injuries have fascinating stories attached to them

Overall, I wouldl rate this experience 8.5/10 - very enlightening and only mildly inappropriate.

Sausage was fine.

load more comments (1 replies)